This is the second half of Julie's life. The title comes from another line in the poem I wrote, about how happiness isn't 'ecstasy, a fleeting peak' but rather 'a wide fertile valley / In its familiarity, golden.' It's the right idea that happiness is doing the quiet, regular, everyday things. In the corner there's a map of Essex, showing Julie's life from Canvey Island, up this pink line that roughly follows the A12, to Basildon, South Woodham Ferrers, Maldon, Colchester and eventually Wrabness. The style of houses gets socially posher as you go up, from little pre-fabs on Canvey Island to the 1960s modernist block, the Barratt house, the Victorian worker's cottage in Maldon, the Georgian townhouse and then finally her shrine at Wrabness.

On the left is a line of Victorian workers' cottages occupied by hippy early movers into rural towns. There's a 'Nuclear power? o thanks' sticker in the window, a sunshine-and-clouds mobile and a cheese plant. The two floating figures are the ghosts of Julie's parents, hovering above. The red-sailed Thames barges in the background are well-known Maldon landmark.

Julie is here as a single mother in the 1980s; first husband Dave - who's now left, and become a Tory councillor - is arriving for an access weekend. It wasn't an acrimonious divorce in the end, despite the fact that he had played away. That's me rewriting my life again. Julie's been to Greenham Common and she's got her feminist sweater on. She takes herself off to university where she meets her second husband, Rob Curzon. He's middle-class: his father was a vicar, his mother a psychotherapist, so he's a bit more 'worked out'. He likes birdwatching and ancient monuments; the little Viking boats on the map are a nod to him.

At the centre, there's Julie with Rob, in her Gudrun Sjödén outfit. The bottle of Chenin Blan and the plane in the sky reference the lifestyle they lead, taking lots of holidays, travelling, going on walks, enjoying art - living the middle-class dream. On the right-hand side there's Colchester High Street with the town hall. Now it's the late 1990s and Julie is a social worker, out one evening with her colleagues for a post-work drink. Coming right up to the present, at the bottom right corner Julie meets her end. She lies dead, lanyard around her neck, knocked over by the curry-delivery guy on his bike.

These tapestries took several months each to sketch, and probably around four to six weeks to draw out in Photoshop on my Wacom Cintiq interactive display. Then they went off to a digital mediator at Factum Arte in Spain, who translated the images into a set of instructions for the digital loom. The adaptation process took three months.

Grayson Perry